


Pieces/Ruins

by MCz5



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games), Deus Ex: Black Light
Genre: Biting, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fic and Art, Frottage, Love Confessions, M/M, NO ONE KNOWS, Pining, Semi-Clothed Sex, the Rialto, where is Stacks?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-19 23:16:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11908248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MCz5/pseuds/MCz5
Summary: Alive. It was a possibility Frank had never dared to hope for. Adam was alive and here. In Detroit.Now what to do with that information?





	Pieces/Ruins

  

Alive. It was a possibility Frank had never dared to hope for. Adam was alive and here in Detroit, within arm’s reach even. Pritchard drew in a shaky breath. He felt a bit like a creep, sitting and watching Jensen sleep in his little tent on the Rialto’s dilapidated stage, but he couldn’t look away. Adam was alive and the knowledge lit a warm glow in Pritchard’s chest. Jensen looked so peaceful, laying haphazardly in the nest of scavenged blankets and sleeping bags that made up Frank’s bed. Pritchard hated to wake him but he needed to sleep as well and while they could both fit, cozy would be a hell of an understatement. His hand reached out, hovering hesitantly over Adam’s cheek.

No, he couldn’t do that. What if Adam _did_ wake at Frank’s touch, too gentle to be anything but intimate? He’d say something demeaning, might even punch Frank, and then he’d disappear. It wouldn’t have been so bad a year and a half ago, when they were both still gainfully employed and the world hadn’t gone completely crazy. He should have said something then, when Adam wouldn’t have been able to just vanish. Now it would only turn Pritchard into a complete mess if Jensen just up and left him behind again. Their relationship as it stood wasn’t ideal, but Frank would take what he could get. Even a shaky friendship was too much to lose with careless handling.

Still, he hesitated; this might be his only chance. Slowly Frank lowered his hand, fingers slipping feather-light over Adam’s cheekbone. If he woke, Frank would claim he was only trying to get him up so they could switch places. Jensen didn’t move however, just sighed softly under his breath, making Pritchard’s heart stutter. This was as good a chance as he was ever going to get. Firming his touch just a hair, Frank ran his fingers up to Adam’s temple, barely brushing the edge of the hexagonal imprint that marked the entry point of the bullet that had nearly killed Jensen. Fuck, Pritchard had been so close to losing him, so close to losing this, so many times it made his chest ache. He yanked his hand away, flushing with shame and remembered anguish.

“I… I’ll let you sleep,” he whispered before jerking himself upright and pushing out of the tent as fast as he could manage while still staying quiet.

Adam was not a heavy sleeper, even before his augmentations, and now, with all that had happened in the past eighteen months, it was a wonder he got any sleep at all. He’d been awake from the moment he heard Francis first shift the tent flap aside and shuffle in. Activating his thermal imaging so as to be able to observe through his closed eyes, Jensen had had to remind himself not to hold his breath as he watched Francis’ softly glowing silhouette hesitate before finally giving in and touching him.

That soft hand on his cheek opened a yawning void in Adam’s chest. Feelings he’d thought long buried pushed to the surface and it took all his willpower to stay still, feigning sleep to see just what Francis had planned. Despite their initial animosity, by the end of their time at Sarif Industries, there had been no one else Adam trusted, no one he longed to connect with more. When Francis pulled away and fled, Adam stood silently to follow. Now that he knew Pritchard felt the same, he could pursue the attraction without fear of rejection.

Frank hunched over his desk, cursing himself. Just that one touch had been too much; his fingers itched to be back against Adam’s skin. Never mind that he still hadn’t accomplished what he had first gone in there to do. How much longer could he reasonably stay alert? He’d have to wake Jensen sooner or later. He was muttering to himself under his breath, refreshing cameras and triple-checking his perimeter defenses, when a soft noise from behind startled him so badly he nearly fell from his chair. Scrambling for the stun gun he always kept near to hand, Pritchard jumped up and spun to face-- “A-ah… Jensen…”

Adam took him in, paying no heed to the weapon pointed shakily at his chest. Even with too-sharp cheekbones and the kind of dark circles under his eyes that spoke of too many sleepless nights, Francis looked good. He wasn't wearing his jacket and the soft cotton of his usual white turtleneck had been replaced with an equally soft-looking t-shirt, clinging closer to his lean frame. His hair was ruffled where he’d been running his hands through it and his pupils were blown wide with fright and the dark of the theater. With the residual blush spreading across his nose and down his throat, Adam had to swallow back the urge to simply close the distance between them and pull Francis into his arms.

“Hey,” he murmured, “are you alright? You looked a little stressed.”

Pritchard eyed Jensen in return, weapon lowering slowly. Despite being decked out in clothes Francis had stolen over the several months that had turned out to not fit him, Adam seemed comfortable. He was less muscular than Pritchard remembered, but given that he’d probably been in a coma for a year that wasn’t surprising. He still filled out the worn cotton t-shirt and dark jeans in a way that made red creep up Frank’s neck and burn his ears. Adam also wasn’t wearing his shades, allowing Francis to see his eyes, and he didn’t look particularly like someone who had just woken up. Pritchard’s stomach sank and he turned back to his monitors with a jerk, hoping desperately that his longing wasn’t showing on his face.

“Well, you know,” he snarked, voice harsh to cover his embarrassment as his blush flared hotly, “nothing quite relaxes a person like living in an abandoned theatre, earning a living by doing favours for a gang.”

“You don’t have to worry about them,” Adam replied soothingly, stepping forward on cat’s feet to stand just behind where Pritchard was curled in on himself. “I’m here now. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Those words, so close behind him, spoken so tenderly, caused Frank’s heart to skip a beat. “I… ah…” he cleared his throat nervously. “How… long have you been awake?”

Adam smiled fondly at the messy ponytail facing him, settling his hands gently on Francis’ thin shoulders. “Long enough.”

Shit. Pritchard tensed, fear spiking through him; here it came. Despite the tone Adam had just used, Frank knew the best he could hope for was a genuine thank you before Jensen disappeared again.

“It’s alright,” Adam said softly, smoothing his hands over Francis’ worn shirt, stretched taut over his hunched form.

Pritchard didn’t reply or pull away, so Adam gave into the urge to dig his fingers into hard muscles, kneading gently at the knots formed from long hours huddled over keyboards and terminals. Francis gave a shuddering sigh as he slowly unwound, and Adam bit his lip to suppress the image of that noise in a very different context.

“Relax, Francis,” he murmured, trying to do the same.

“Ah… b-but…” Pritchard stuttered, head tipping forward as Adam’s fingers trailed up his neck to rub firm circles at the base of his skull. God that felt good.

Jensen leaned in, tucking some of Frank’s loose hair behind his ear. “If you’re going to say something about earlier,” he rumbled beside Pritchard’s ear, eliciting another full-body shiver, “it was nice. I enjoyed it.”

Frank swallowed heavily, heart racing. Maybe this was a dream? Had he actually kicked Jensen out of the tent and fallen asleep? That could be the only explanation. He sighed and gave in, pressing back into Adam’s hands and letting his head rest against one augmented shoulder, face tilted into the soft skin of Jensen’s neck. Adam’s pulse stuttered under his cheek and his hold tightening minutely.

Only a brief moment of stillness, and then Adam slid his hands down Francis’ arms to twine their fingers together, gently pulling the forgotten stun gun from Pritchard’s loose grip. “Come on,” he urged, voice rough with emotion. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Th-the cameras…” Frank protested weakly, content to stay as they were.

“We’ll be fine,” Jensen soothed, stepping back and tugging Pritchard around to face him.

Adam smiled, just a touch of melancholy at the edges as he tucked the stun gun away in a pocket so that he could run gentle fingers over Francis’ sharp cheekbone. “You look so tired. I still want some more sleep, and I would rest easier if you were nearby.”

Frank still wasn’t fully convinced this was real, that Adam would say these things and touch him with such gentleness. Still, this dream was far nicer than the nightmares of Panchaea that dragged him down, drowning him as surely as if he’d been right there next to Jensen in that cursed facility. Without another word, Pritchard let himself be led back to the tent, crawling in after Adam, who refused to let go of his hand.

While Jensen placed the stun gun out of the way but well within reach, Frank shed only his shoes, too paranoid yet to undress further despite the relative security of the Rialto and the defenses he’d installed. Silently, they curled together in the small space, Adam’s warmth seeping into Prichard where they touched, slowly persuading him that yes, Jensen was here. They were both here, alive and safe, and the knowledge had Francis biting his lip to stifle a sob.

“Adam, I…” he whispered, almost afraid to speak and break the spell they’d woven. “I missed you. A… a lot.”

“I missed you too,” Jensen replied, gently tugging Pritchard’s ponytail out and running his hand through the loose hair. “Even if the world outside has gone to shit, I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but with you.”

Frank laughed softly, the sound just a little broken, and ducked his chin to hide his blush, staring at where his fingers twitched nervously against Adam’s shirt. Adam leaned in, tilting Francis’ face back up so he could lightly brush their mouths together. He pulled back, taking in the way Francis had relaxed, lips parted on a contented sigh. Jensen ducked in again, pressing a firmer kiss to Pritchard’s mouth and humming in agreement at the whine he pulled from Frank’s throat. This was everything he’d been missing, everything he’d needed, for too long.

Francis kissed back eagerly, shifting closer and winding his arms around Adam’s shoulders. They traded tiny nips with longer caresses, tongues sliding between lips to taste each other shyly before retreating. Frank’s kisses slowed as he grew sleepier, lulled by the reassuring presence of Adam’s arms around him. He retreated with one last lingering kiss, moving just far enough away that he could meet Jensen’s hooded gaze.

Francis grinned, small but sincere. “I’m so happy you’re back.”

“Me too,” Adam replied, a soft smile lighting his features as well.

“Francis…” Jensen hesitated only a moment before pressing his forehead to Pritchard’s, their noses nudging intimately against each other. A rumble, deep in Adam’s chest, and the words that came out stole Francis’ breath. “I love you.”

“Adam…” Frank choked out in a whisper, sliding his suddenly damp cheek against Jensen’s to bury his face in Adam’s throat. “God… it feels like I’ve loved you forever. I never imagined… and when you--” he cut himself off, unable to even voice the thought.

Adam tightened his embrace, rolling onto his back and pulling Francis over him. “It’s alright,” he soothed into mussed brown hair, “I’m here now.”

Pritchard drifted off first, Jensen’s hand stroking gently through his hair and their limbs tangled together in a cozy sprawl. The theater quieted into sleep around them as well and, to the soundtrack of the old building settling and Frank’s soft snores, Adam finally relaxed into slumber. Only a few short hours later, he was startled from his rest by a small whimper. Pritchard tensed in his arms before trying to curl in on himself.

“Francis, wake up,” Adam muttered, tightening his hold as much as he dared when Frank twisted and cried out.

Frank bolted awake, panting and sweating, to find Jensen watching him with concern. He tensed further. “A-ah… sorry…”

“Don’t be,” Adam rebuffed gently, loosening his hold. “I’m here for you.”

Despite the reassurance Pritchard pulled away, sitting up in the small space and staring at his shaking hands. His face flushed and his eyes filled with tears as he remembered the Incident as though it had only been the day before. Even now, the helplessness he'd felt then was only salt in a seemingly unhealable wound.

“I...dream about Panchaea a lot. Malik and I… we were the first on the scene. I’d hoped we could get there before…” Frank hiccuped, fighting down a sob as his anguish spilled over. “Seeing the aftermath, though… knowing you were still inside…”

Adam let him get no further, pushing himself upright as well to gather Francis back into his arms. “It’s alright. I’m alive. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you will!” Pritchard cried, and the heartbroken sound of it had Jensen hauling Frank fully into his lap, legs to either side of his hips so that they sat face to face. Pritchard refused to look up, staring instead at where his hands were clenched in the tight material of Adam’s stolen shirt. “Once you do, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself. I lost you once, Adam--”

“You won’t have to do it again,” Jensen interrupted fiercely, startling Frank into silence. He tilted Pritchard's chin up and caught his eye, trying to make him understand exactly what he meant. “Not if I have anything to say about it. Whatever we do from here, we do it together.”

Francis gaped, astonished for a heartbeat, before sucking in a sharp breath and darting in to kiss Adam hard on the mouth. “You’d better mean that,” he growled between stinging nips of teeth and forceful presses of lips to lips.

Jensen groaned, letting Pritchard punish him as he saw fit, one hand firm between Frank’s shoulder blades as the other kneaded low on the opposite hip, dragging them chest to chest. Adam broke the kiss first this time, eyes squeezed shut and fingers clutching desperately when Francis slipped a hand beneath his shirt to score blunt nails across his natural skin. Frank kept going, biting his way down Adam’s throat and twisting clever fingers beneath the hem of Adam’s shirt at the small of his back.

“F-Fra- _ahh_...” Jensen wheezed, hips jolting upwards, bringing the already hard line of his erection suddenly, deliciously against Pritchard’s own. “I--”

“You what?” Frank snapped, barely pausing in the bruises he was pulling to the surface. “You’re sorry you _died?”_

“Y-y- _yesss_ … Bu- _uh_ -ut..!” Adam managed to hiss, panting harshly, jaw tight and limbs twitching as though he’d like to both retreat and crumble where he sat at the same time. “I-i-it’s been a- _ah_ l- _uh_ -long time..!”

 _“Good,”_ Pritchard snarled in his ear, heavy breaths treacherously close to sobs even as he ground down on the cock trapped beneath him.

Jensen hissed at the contact, hands clamping down on Frank’s hips to keep him in place as he rolled his own upwards again, seeking friction. The rough chafe of his jeans against his leaking dick cut his pleasure with just the right amount of pain. Pritchard moaned, raking his hands up Adam’s scarred back, dragging the thin shirt along as he went. Adam reluctantly peeled his hands away one at a time so that Frank could pull the clothing from him, eagerly seeking out skin again as soon as each arm was bare. Sleek fingers slid as far as they could beneath Francis’ belted waistband, stroking anything they could reach, and all the while Jensen set a steadily rolling rhythm that he didn’t seem able to consciously control.

“Y-y-you t-too...” Adam stuttered, listing backwards as Francis moved his marking to the jut of Jensen’s collarbone, eyes little more than glittering green slits as they focussed solely on Frank poised above him.

A huff of breath, impatient but amused, and Pritchard sat up straight again. Adam keened as the motion pressed the prominent ridge of Frank’s cock firmly against his own. Grabbing the hem of his t-shirt and twisting it off, Francis rode out the desperate thrust from below with a shaky smirk.

“Not yet,” he breathed, bracing his hands on Adam’s shoulders and digging his fingers into the join of augment and flesh.

Jensen shuddered, brilliant eyes finally falling closed as his mouth dropped open, sucking in air as though his augmented lungs suddenly couldn’t support him. Frank didn’t bother to resist the temptation, falling forward to reclaim Adam’s mouth with a filthy slide of his tongue, mirrored in a sinuous twist of his hips that had Adam whining low in his throat.

“Not yet,” Pritchard murmured wetly against his lips, fingers trailing down Jensen’s chest slowly, destination clear.

“Fra- _ah_ -ncissss…” Another shiver ran through Adam, hands clutching bruises into the firm muscle of Frank's backside and pulling him down hard as Pritchard ghosted feather-light touches across his pectorals. _“Please...”_

Francis hummed, teasing just a little more as he nosed at the soft skin behind Adam's ear. The scrape of teeth in tandem with the edge of a nail against Adam's nipple pulled a choked groan from the throat beneath Frank's lips. He grinned and hissed, _“Now, Adam.”_

Jensen bucked upwards urgently, head lolled forwards onto Frank's shoulder as he chased his orgasm. A few more thrusts and his legs tensed beneath Pritchard's thighs. Adam came with almost no sound, just a shuddering sigh against sweat-damp skin and an arch of hips punctuated with the twitch of his erection against Frank's as he spilled in the tight confines of his jeans. Francis ground down with purpose, pulling another gasping whine from Jensen’s lips as the action edged him to oversensitivity. It didn't take long for Pritchard to follow Adam to completion, a cry muffled with teeth set high on Adam's neck and nails dug into hard muscle.

They clutched at each other, panting as they came down from their high. Adam grunted as Francis pushed him fully onto his back, kneeling above him with his long hair falling around them both in an intimate curtain. Hazy, half-lidded green stared up into sharp grey.

“You're mine, Jensen,” Pritchard growled, eyes wet. “You’re not allowed to die again.”

“Alright,” Adam agreed on a sigh, stroking his hands up the lean expanse of Frank’s back, pulling him down so they once again rested chest to chest.

The easy acquiescence seemed to settle Pritchard as they both eased back towards sleep. Jensen knew they would regret not getting cleaned up right away, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Shifting them both to a more comfortable position, Adam carded a shaky hand through Francis’ hair.

“I don’t know what will happen from here,” Jensen murmured into the sheltered dark of the tent around them, “but I do know I can’t do it without you. Wherever I go from here, I’m taking you with me.”

“Good,” Pritchard grumbled into the hollow of Adam's throat, grip tightening where he had hold of both augment and flesh.

“You’re mine too, Francis,” Adam pressed a lingering kiss to Frank’s temple, “and I’m not letting you go again.”


End file.
